


Somewhere That Isn't Here

by Xochiquetzl



Category: The Archangel Protocol Series - Lyda Morehouse
Genre: Other, Transgender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-01
Updated: 2007-10-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 06:25:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xochiquetzl/pseuds/Xochiquetzl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ariel knows what will make Mouse feel better...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhere That Isn't Here

I was so busy shoving things into my duffel bag that I don't even notice Ariel standing there for a moment, watching me with a sympathetic expression. Well, in my defense, I wasn't really doing a very good job packing, either. I stop for a moment, and we sort of stare at each other. Finally, I ask her, "What?" It comes out a little more hostile-sounding than I intend.

If she's put off by the tone of my question, she doesn't show it. "Where are you going, honey?" she says. Her voice is soft and oddly reassuring.

"Somewhere that isn't here," I say. I start shoving things into my duffel bag again.

Ariel gives me a long, appraising look, and I realize that somewhere in the seething mass of hurt and jealousy and anger and longing is a thick, palpable streak of sexual frustration. Merciful Allah, couldn't that fucking asshole come back a week later? A year later? Never? Maybe my expression changes, because she crosses the room, sweeps me up into an almost tango-esque dip, and kisses me.

It occurs to me, as I slide my hands into her thick, silky hair and my tongue into her mouth, that maybe I should be freaking out right about now. I mean, I'm straight. Usually.

Ariel makes a soft noise deep in her throat and pulls me closer. I can feel her erection pressing into my stomach under her loose skirt, but that just turns me on even more. I'm clearly some kind of pervert. I think it's partly the sexual frustration that's making me go for this so fast and hard, but there's more to it than that, it's something deeper. I think on some level, I need to be kissed. No, I think I need to be wanted.

One of Ariel's hands reaches down to fondle my ass, which goes straight to my cock, and gives me a sort of sympathetic tingle up to the small of my back. I leave one of my hands in her hair and reach another down to feel her breast. I want to touch her skin, to reach under her clothes, but I'm a little afraid I'll fall. As if reading my mind--hey, I thought Morningstar could read my mind, and isn't Ariel an archangel?--she lowers me onto my bed, hikes her skirt, and straddles my hips. She's surprisingly light. Nice legs. I run my hands up them, slide my hands up to cup her ass. She's wearing some kind of lacy feeling underwear. I wonder if her bra matches.

She smiles at me and starts to unbutton her blouse. Hey, this would be a little creepy if it wasn't so cool. The blouse slides off, revealing a red lace bra with hard nipples clearly visible, darker through the sheerness of the lace. She smells good, sort of a Chai-like smell? whatever it is, I can't really place it. I reach up and pull down one bra strap until her breast falls out, then lean up and kiss and suck on her breast a little.

I look up at her. She's watching me with an expression that... I'm flattered. I kiss her breast a few more times, and decide to take the plunge and see what else she's got in those lacy panties.

"Would you rather do this somewhere else?" she asks.

I hadn't really thought this through. "Dee might hear us." As if she would care, but I can't take that chance.

"She's not here, baby," Ariel says. "She and Rye were leaving as I came in."

I close my eyes and sigh.

She slides down my legs. I feel her hands at the waistband of my jeans, unbuttoning. I open my eyes again to stare at her. She's focused on my pants, intent. Lustful. I shiver.

She yanks my jeans and boxers down my thighs, and lowers her head. The tip of my cock slides into her mouth, and I gasp and arch upwards.

She grabs my hips and shoves them hard onto the bed, which is so fucking hot that I think for a minute that I'm going to come right then and there. She gives me a very self-satisfied look, then leans down and gives my cock the lightest little lick. I groan.

Fuck. _Fuck._ She's licking me like an ice cream cone, dainty and ladylike, and I'm fucking desperate to thrust into her mouth, but I can't, because she's holding me down. I clutch at the bedspread and moan. "Merciful Allah."

She smirks at me, and then, fuck, she's sucking me. I realize I'm babbling in Arabic, but the part of my brain that gives a shit is far away. I can't control my hips bucking up against her hands. She's so... oh, fuck.

And then all is calm and bliss, at least for the moment. She lies down next to me, looking smug. I roll closer to her, and she kisses me.

"Feeling better?" she asks.

A bit, yeah. I nod, and she sits up. "Hey!" Where the hell is she going? I mean, we're not finished, are we?

She smiles and slides back down to lie on top of me. "If you insist on moving out, at least go somewhere I can find you."

I somehow suspect there's nowhere I could move where she couldn't find me, but I nod anyway. She kisses me again, and then she dresses and leaves.


End file.
